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Blaise Pascal was born in Clermont on
19 June 1623 to a judge of the tax court, Etienne
Pascal. By the age of eight Blaise had shown such
promise that his father decided to move the family
to Paris. Here Etienne could not only develop
his own interest in mathematics but also ensure
that Blaise met the finest intellects in France.
Etienne had very modern views about education.
He believed that a traditional education damaged
the creativity of youth because of its emphasis
on rote-learning texts and ideas ill matched to
the interests of young people, however intelligent
they were. Blaise was certainly intelligent, but his
father forbade any formal teaching before the age
of 12. He would then be taught languages, and
only at the age of 16 would be allowed to study
his father's main subject of interest, mathematics.
He took the boy to visit his friends, and to
his workplace, and encouraged the boy to ask
questions on any subject. In addition he gave him
lessons on a wide range of topics that he felt lay
within a young boy's capacities and were likely to
stimulate his imagination. But the attraction of the
forbidden was too great. |
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Blaise wormed out of his
father a definition of mathematics, which was 'the
method of making correct figures and discovering
the proportions which they bear to each other'.
This was enough. When his father saw him one
day drawing on sheets of paper and asked what
he was doing the 12 year-old replied that he was
trying to prove something about triangles. It was
Euclid's 32nd proposition, that the sum of the
angles of a triangle is equal to two right angles.
And he had succeeded. So Etienne gave in and
let him have his copy of Euclid. At least that was
what his adoring elder sister said. A less adoring
witness said that the boy had already got himself
a Euclid, and read it secretly.
By the age of 14 the boy was allowed
to join the weekly meeting of the top French
geometricians, such as Mersenne and Roberval, a
group that eventually gave rise to the Acad?emie
Franc?aise. At 16 he wrote a treatise on Conics
good enough to make Descartes both jealous and
suspicious that one so young could be so clever.
Pascal's interest in tubes full of mercury
arose from the sensational production of the first
recorded vacuum. Galileo's last pupil, Evangelista
Torricelli, took up his ideas for investigating
why water pumps couldn't lift water higher than
about 10 metres, but was more interested in his
mathematical work than in physics experiments.
So in 1643 he passed on the task of seeing how
high a liquid column could maintain itself to the
young Vincenzo Viviani. Viviani had been a pupil
of Galileo's and stayed on to work with Torricelli.
I suppose that the Health and Safety rules mean
that nowadays teenagers never see this intriguing
experiment, which is a pity .
It seemed logical to use mercury rather than
water, and as mercury had fallen out but nothing
had moved in, the length of tube above the
mercury contained a vacuum. There was a
problem though-what held the mercury column
up? Torricelli believed that it was kept up by the
weight of the air pushing down on the mercury
in the bowl, and wrote to his friend M A Ricci
that the aim of the experiment was 'not simply
to produce a vacuum, but to make an instrument
which shows the mutations of the air, now heavier
and denser, and now lighter and thin'.
Torricelli's account of his experiment reached
Mersenne in France in 1644, but couldn't be
repeated because the necessary glass tubes were
not available. Pascal heard about the Torricelli
experiment in August 1646 and with some friends
repeated it. They managed to get long enough
tubes to carry out the experiment-some long
enough to be used with wine (naturally enough)
as the liquid, held up by being tied to the masts of
a ship in Rouen harbour, where his father's job as
a tax collector had taken the family. Not everyone of scientific importance believed
in the vacuum theory. In the Middle Ages
Aristotle's ideas had become dogma. Even Ren?e
Descartes thought that the top of the tube was full
of 'subtle matter' that had somehow got into the
tube via 'pores in the glass': for traditionalists
the idea of a vacuum was simply unthinkable.
Blaise Pascal moved to Paris in 1647 and in
October published a small pamphlet Nouvelles
Exp?eriences Touchant le Vide ('New Experiments
about Emptiness'), describing his experiments at
Rouen. The pamphlet created a stir, and Pascal
became famous overnight. The clarity and rigour
of his arguments and experiments were nearer to
an Einsteinian than a 17th century scientific paper.
For example, he pointed out that the space above
the mercury was at least an 'apparent vacuum'.
Also, it seemed to be empty of all the kinds of
matter accessible to the senses, so maybe it is a
genuine vacuum, however abhorrent to nature it
might be.
Hence the remotely controlled experiment by
his brother-in-law at Clermont. Pascal thought
that Torricelli's idea of the mercury column being
balanced by the weight of the air was correct. If
the height of the mercury column was greater at
the foot of the mountain than at the top, this would
kill two birds with the same stone. The column
was held up by the air, and 'Nobody could say
that Nature has more abhorrence of a vacuum at
the foot of a mountain than at the top of it ' .
In this book Pascal developed a theory of
pressure and not only explained clearly the basic
physics underlying the Torricelli experiment but
extended it to balancing liquid columns, essentially
founding the science of hydrostatics.
Blaise Pascal was one of the most ingenious
and interesting savants of the seventeenth
century-and was by far the nicest. Down in
Toulouse Pierre Fermat was condemning people
to burning at the stake; in darkest Lincolnshire the
posthumous child and mother-abandoned toddler
Isaac Newton was incubating his neuroses. It
was a time when Europe was torn by civil and
religious wars. Cheerfulness was at a premium.
In 1650 Pascal decided to give up science and
mathematics to 'contemplate the greatness and
misery of man'. He came back to science
from time to time, inventing the hydraulic press,
improving the calculating machine he had invented
to help his father calculate taxes more quickly
(nobody is perfect) and doing a lot more work
in mathematics, especially geometry. The SI unit
of pressure is the pascal (Pa).
But he is perhaps best known in France for
his moral and religious works: the Letters to a
Provincial and the Pens?ees ('Thoughts') helped
to reform Catholic thinking even if some felt that
they verged on the heretical. These books are still
readily available in paperback. Pascal died in 1662
of a painful stomach cancer.
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